


Trust Me

by masterwords



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 09:54:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20928302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterwords/pseuds/masterwords
Summary: Inspired by The Barbecue in Season 4 - David's quip about dating a birthday clown who painted his face and disappeared into the night, never to be seen from again.  I have wondered many times how that might have gone down, and as I was listening to Rest Stop by Matchbox Twenty, I was struck with an idea that I had to write out.  It's a quick and short story, and obviously I've taken some creative liberties with the character of the clown.





	Trust Me

“Come with me,” Barry said, wiping his face paint off enthusiastically in front of an antique mirror, watching David's reflection behind him carefully. The bright red of his lips smeared through the thick white paint on his cheeks, creating a sickly pink swirl that David couldn't take his eyes off of. He and Barry had only been seeing each other for a short time, but already Barry hadn't been back to his own apartment (did he even have one?) in almost two weeks and David was happy. He had a tendency to fall hard and fast for anyone who gave him attention, and Barry checked that box right away. He was sweet and gentle, he listened to David talk (even if he didn't care about what he was saying), and he was fun. He'd forced David out of his comfort zone on more than one occasion. David had opened himself up right away to his adorable birthday clown who loved children and loved parties. 

“To a child's birthday party on Long Island? That's going to be a hard pass.” David replied with a devilish grin, watching as Blimpy the Clown gave way to his handsome lover Barry with his bright blue eyes and thick eyelashes and those lips that could stop David dead in his tracks every time. Barry whipped around, tossing his rainbow wig across the room to where David sat and let out a burst of laughter. 

“Oh come on, live a little! You could be Shrimpy, Blimpy's long lost twin brother...the kids would eat it up!” 

David shook his head, tossing the wig back as if it was on fire and he'd just been burned. Barry bent down to pick the wig up off of the floor and sighed. “I just wish you'd come with and see what I do...I know you'd have a good time.”

“See what you do? You're a fucking birthday clown, I think I have a good idea of what you do,” David replied, a little more harsh than he'd intended. “Look. I just don't like kids, OK? That's all. They're loud and they're messy and they're fucking monsters.” 

“Maybe you're the monster...” Barry muttered under his breath, turning back toward the mirror. He adjusted his hair net and squared up, ready to paint a fresh coat of Blimpy on his face. Two parties in one day was a bit much, but the cash was definitely good. David watched as Barry turned back into Blimpy, the thick, gaudy paint hiding that beautifully sculpted face. He sighed and stood, walking over to his lover slowly. 

“I'm not a monster,” David began, wrapping his arms around Barry from behind and resting his chin on his lover's shoulder. Barry continued putting on his makeup silently as David launched into a lengthy lecture about something that Barry didn't care about – pretentious art or fashion or whatever he deemed more worthy than anything Barry could say or do. Finally, during a break in the lecture, Barry turned around in David's arms and touched his face. 

“Can I paint you?” he asked, a smirk crossing his cartoonish features. David made a face that spoke volumes, but Barry pleaded with him until he gave in. 

“Paint me...how?” 

“Your face, silly. I know exactly how you'd look as a clown.” 

David made a sound of disgust, but felt like he'd better not protest anymore or Barry might lose it. 

“Just trust me, ok? Sit down,” Barry instructed, pulling his makeup case over to where David was. It didn't take him long to work his magic, and when he was done, David felt like he was wearing a sticky, greasy mask. The face staring back at him from the mirror was unrecognizable as his own – thick, plaster white skin with black diamonds dripping around his eyes and his mouth painted in a sarcastic looking smile. He looked like someone who overdid their makeup before going to see The Cure. 

“What's my name?” David asked, intrigued by his new alter ego. He touched a fingertip to the thick paint, which felt like soft clay. 

“Pierrot,” Barry said, running his fingers gently along David's cheekbone. “And I'm your Columbine.”

“I don't know what that means...” David muttered, turning his face gently into Barry's hand and closing his eyes. If he'd known what it meant, he would have understood what was about to happen. Barry just smiled sadly and backed away from David. 

“I have to go, David, I need to go catch the train.” 

David watched as Barry grabbed his bag, which looked heavier than usual for a birthday party, but he was going all the way to Long Island. 

“You'll be back later?” David asked, reaching out for Barry with a coy look on his painted face. Barry looked away and double checked his bag. 

“Yeah, probably,” he muttered, trying to avoid the question. He didn't want to lie but he knew David well enough to know he'd be pushed right into it. David was a glutton for punishment. 

“Yeah? So I'll see you tonight?” David pressed, oblivious to his lover's avoidance of the question. Finally, Barry sighed and looked straight at David, knowing there was no way he'd get out of this without crushing him. 

“Yes. You need to start trusting people...” he said, knowing full well that David should not trust him. He'd overplayed his hand and he knew it, but he also didn't care anymore. This was the end. He didn't want to be cruel, but he didn't feel like he had a choice. He'd thrown out his hail mary, inviting David to the party with him, one last chance to enter into his life. He'd gone wholeheartedly into David's, but David hadn't done the same for him and he just couldn't bear it anymore. He'd met someone else who made him feel that spark, another clown who happened to make a hefty living as a street performer. Barry liked David so much, he'd wanted to stay, but it was clear that this was a one-sided relationship and he just couldn't bear it anymore. 

“Ok,” David replied softly, nodding. He watched as Barry hoisted his heavy bag over his shoulder and walked out the door without so much as a goodbye kiss, and then he padded to the bathroom. His face in the mirror looked different under the harsh bathroom light, it looked sadder than before. He looked down at the sink and noticed that Barry's' toothbrush was missing, and all of his toiletries were gone as well. He felt his stomach churn nervously as he speedily moved toward the bedroom, throwing open the drawers he'd cleared for Barry's things. Empty. Everything was gone. Every bit of Barry that had been in this apartment was gone. He sat down on his bed and pulled out his phone, but when he called, it just went to voicemail. Over and over again it went to voicemail. Something stuck in his head: Columbine. He looked up Pierrot and Columbine, and a lump grew in his throat as he read about the sad clown in love with someone who was in love with someone else. Tears burned in his eyes and ran down his cheeks, smearing all of the greasy paint until his face was a swirling mess of black and white and gray. There was always someone else. No one ever chose him.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Rest Stop by Matchbox Twenty. The song is heartbreaking and beautiful.


End file.
